


a home away from home

by jjokkiri



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous Relationships, But Truthfully This Is More Like, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, There Are Yearning Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27917497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: Changkyun misses the last train home.
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Minhyuk
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	a home away from home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asiannoodles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiannoodles/gifts).



> For my dear soulmate, who deserves something better than this: maybe Nanowrimo burned the hell out of me, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. With all my heart, I love you the most! Happy birthday! ♡

“Oh, _you’re_ a sight for sore eyes, Changkyun.”

Minhyuk—pretty as ever—leans against his doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair has gotten longer since the last time they saw one another and he has dyed it black—it falls into his eyes when he tilts his head. His glasses are held loosely in his hand and Changkyun realizes that he must have been in the middle of work when he opened the door.

But he looks pleased to see Changkyun. And Changkyun thinks, _maybe he spent the past twenty minutes standing in front of Minhyuk’s door, dwelling over ringing the doorbell for nothing._

“Hi,” Changkyun greets. His voice sounds weak.

There is just something embarrassing about standing in front of Minhyuk like this.

Something crawls in the pit of his stomach, urging him to speak. But at the same time, it pulls him back.

There is just something difficult about saying, _‘hey! We haven’t spoken in a while but I missed the last train home and instead of thinking to find a taxi, my brain malfunctioned and reminded me you lived nearby.’_ And Changkyun can’t even _think_ about ending that with, _‘do you mind if I crash at here tonight?’_

Which, in retrospect, if that were really the case, he shouldn’t have rung the doorbell in the first place.

But he doesn’t have anywhere to go and taking a taxi back home would be too costly. As a university student unprepared for the crippling debt of higher education, he can’t afford to waste so much money on a one-way trip home for the night. It doesn’t make sense.

As if it makes sense to ring Minhyuk’s doorbell in the middle of the night.

Changkyun feels like death.

“Hey,” Minhyuk replies. His eyes scan down Changkyun’s body before flicking up to meet his eyes. Suddenly self-conscious, Changkyun looks away. He spent the majority of his day slaving away in the library—he must look terrible. “You miss the last train home?”

_Bingo._

Changkyun winces. He flashes a sheepish smile, wringing his hands nervously.

“I did,” he says. He raises a hand to scratch the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. “I…”

“Come in,” Minhyuk says, suddenly. He steps away from the door, heading back into his apartment. As he walks, he stretches his arms over his head with a groan. When he drops his arms back to his sides, the thin sweater falls loosely over his shoulder, too big on him. “Make yourself at home. I can get you a spare change of clothes and a towel if you want to take a shower.”

_Just like that?_

Changkyun freezes in the doorway. Minhyuk glances over his shoulder.

“Are you coming?” Minhyuk asks. “Or are you just going to stand there?”

Changkyun quickly reacts, stepping into the apartment. His cheeks are flushed pink with embarrassment. His bag suddenly feels heavy on his shoulders and he shifts, awkwardly. He feels like he doesn’t belong here. Truthfully, he has never been in Minhyuk’s apartment before—he just knew where he lived and this was _so_ much more convenient than taking a taxi home.

Minhyuk told him to make himself comfortable, but it’s easier said than done.

He turns to close the door behind him, kicking off his shoes and neatly putting them onto the rack in the doorway. He closely follows Minhyuk like a lost puppy in his apartment.

“Have you had anything to eat?” Minhyuk asks, walking into his bedroom to grab his phone.

Changkyun stays by the door, waiting for him. From the setup in his room, his laptop open at his desk, Changkyun confirms that he interrupted the older man in the middle of working. He swallows the guilt.

“No,” he mumbles. “I was hanging out in the library all day. My finals are coming up.”

Minhyuk hums in acknowledgment, tapping at his phone.

“Should we get something for delivery?” he asks, “I haven’t had anything to eat either.”

Changkyun frowns.

“Hyung, it’s ten,” he says, glancing at the clock. Minhyuk gives him a pointed look from behind his bangs, unimpressed.

“You just said you haven’t eaten either,” he replies. He taps a few more times on his screen. “Chicken?”

Changkyun looks down at his feet.

“Chicken sounds good,” he murmurs.

Minhyuk grins.

“Perfect.” He puts his phone down and turns on his heel, heading towards his closet. He glances back at Changkyun in the doorway. “Will you be comfortable in a hoodie or do you want a t-shirt?”

Changkyun stares at him.

“Anything is fine.”

Minhyuk chuckles.

“You can’t let me make all the decisions, Changkyun,” he says. He pulls a t-shirt out of the closet despite his words. He throws it over his shoulder, rifling through another drawer in his closet for more clothes. He adds, “You say it when you want something.”

Then, he comes back, handing Changkyun the neatly folded clothes.

“Put your stuff down and go take a shower,” he says. “The food should be here in half an hour.”

Obediently, Changkyun turns down the hallway.

He pauses, suddenly _very_ aware that he has no idea where he’s going.

Minhyuk laughs quietly behind him.

“The last door on your left,” he supplies.

Embarrassed, Changkyun makes a beeline to the bathroom, hoping the tips of his ears aren’t burning a bright red.

(Much to his dismay, when he looks at himself in the mirror, they’re absolutely bright red.)

* * *

Minhyuk is in the kitchen when he comes out of the shower, dressed in Minhyuk’s clothing. The shirt Minhyuk lent him is a little too loose on him, but it falls to his hips. Changkyun opted to wear his sweatpants instead of the pants Minhyuk gave him, feeling a little too weird with being dressed in Minhyuk’s clothing after infiltrating his apartment in the middle of the night.

As soon as he slides into the kitchen, Minhyuk glances at him over the top of the fridge door. He holds up a blue can, shaking it briefly to emphasize it.

“Do you want a beer?” he asks. “You’re old enough to drink now, right?”

Changkyun exhales a deep breath.

_Maybe some alcohol would loosen him up a little bit._

“I didn’t know you drank,” he murmurs, reaching out for the can with both hands. Minhyuk tosses him an amused look over his shoulder. He shrugs, grabbing another can for himself.

“Work sucks, Changkyun,” he replies, closing the door of the fridge. He turns to lean against the kitchen island with the can in hand. Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Chicken is good with beer. And besides, a little alcohol has never hurt anyone.”

He cracks the can open and takes a swig. Then, he raises an eyebrow at Changkyun.

“What’s got you acting so closed off?” Minhyuk asks, leaning over the counter to look at Changkyun. “You’ve been acting like we’re strangers since you stepped through the door. Did something happen?”

Changkyun flushes. He looks down at the can, itching to crack it open.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

“You can’t lie to me.” Minhyuk takes another sip of his drink, his judgemental gaze burning Changkyun over the top of the can. He isn’t looking, but he can feel Minhyuk’s eyes on him. “I’ve known you for too long for you to try that on me.”

Changkyun slides into the chair at the island, his eyes downcast.

He mumbles, “I just feel bad coming here without any notice.”

Minhyuk laughs at him.

“You feel bad?” he asks. He places the can down onto the counter and frowns. “As if I haven’t done this to you a million times before?” Changkyun glances at him. Minhyuk raises an eyebrow. “I crashed at your place all the time when I was still in university and commuting for my internship, Changkyun. Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, but—,” he starts.

“You didn’t need to welcome me every single time, Changkyun,” he says with a click of his tongue. _Disapproval._ “You were in your senior year of high school and I crashed at your place at least three times a week when I was too tired to come back to Seoul. You were too busy to have to deal with me, but you still managed to make time for me. You made sure I ate whenever I came over, too.”

“Mom would have killed me if I didn’t make sure you ate,” he mutters. He quietly cracks open the can.

“You weren’t asking out of the goodness of your own heart, Changkyun?” His tone is teasing. Changkyun looks away, feeling his ears burn. “You didn’t offer me various types of cereal as a midnight snack because you cared about whether or not I ate during my shift?”

The reminder of being in high school, not making any money of his own, and being unable to offer Minhyuk anything better than cereal because he couldn’t _afford_ late night deliveries feels like a rough drag back to the past. The reminder of being in high school and helplessly worrying over Minhyuk as if he didn’t know how to take care of himself suddenly feels embarrassing.

Flustered, he mumbles, “Well, of course, I _cared_. It was you.”

(The reminder of being a high school senior, nursing a stupid crush on Minhyuk when he came back into his life like a sudden whirlwind feels embarrassing.)

Minhyuk smiles. He pointedly looks at him.

“And _I_ care about _you_.”

Changkyun freezes. Something about Minhyuk’s words makes him hope.

He doesn’t know why.

(He knows exactly why.)

Minhyuk pauses, tearing his eyes away with a sigh. He takes a long sip from his can and says, “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we’ve spoken. You don’t need to feel uncomfortable around me. I’m still the same Minhyuk hyung you grew up down the street from, okay? I might have moved away before you even started high school, but we still have memories, don’t we?”

Changkyun feels shy when he meets Minhyuk’s eyes.

_Memories?_

“It’s the least I can do for you,” Minhyuk says. “Home is a long ride away, but you can always stop by my place if you need a place to stay for the night. You’re welcome here.”

The doorbell interrupts the conversation.

Minhyuk shakes his head, amused.

“The timing of these people,” he mutters under his breath. Then, he heads out to the front door and Changkyun is left wondering why he sounded so disappointed that their conversation was interrupted.

* * *

As much as Changkyun would have loved to spend the rest of the night catching up with Minhyuk, he had schoolwork to finish before morning and Minhyuk was still working on a project for work. After dinner (and two cans of beer), Minhyuk moved his laptop into the kitchen to sit across the room from Changkyun as he worked.

Animated chattering turns into the sound of keyboards clicking on their laptops.

Changkyun sits on the floor at the coffee table, tapping away at an assignment due at eight in the morning, and Minhyuk is sipping from a cup of coffee at midnight. The light behind Minhyuk is turned down low and Changkyun’s screen lights up his face along with the backlight of the keyboard.

Something about it feels terribly domestic—like they’re used to being like this with one another.

Like it isn’t the first time.

And maybe it isn’t because Changkyun still remembers being curled up on his sofa back at home, at eighteen, watching a stupid drama on the television while Minhyuk finished his schoolwork between his internship hours and sleep. He remembers pretending to watch the drama, but stealing glances at Minhyuk when he was sure he wasn’t looking.

He remembers being that childish.

In his second year of university, he doesn’t have the luxury of time to steal glances at Minhyuk, though.

(Nor does he have the time to catch the way Minhyuk steals quick glances at him over the top of his laptop screen.)

“Changkyun, do you— _oh_.”

Changkyun is fast asleep at the coffee table, slouched over his laptop, his cheek pressed against the keyboard. Minhyuk glances at the clock, his expression softening at the sight.

Quietly, he gets up from the kitchen counter, heading into his room to grab a blanket.

When he returns, Minhyuk drapes a blanket over Changkyun’s shoulders with a fond smile on his lips. He sighs, carefully tugging the laptop away from Changkyun. He crouches by the coffee table and scrolls through the assignment, deleting the string of incoherent letters typed by Changkyun’s cheek. Then, he briefly proofs it before he saves it and drops it into the assignment dropbox.

Then, he presses a kiss to the top of Changkyun’s head.

“Goodnight, Changkyun,” he whispers.

Changkyun squirms in his sleep.

Minhyuk chuckles quietly to himself.

He closes the laptop and turns off the lights in the kitchen.

He picks up his laptop from the kitchen counter and takes it back into his room. He places his laptop down on his desk before he falls back on his bed.

He exhales, dramatically.

“What am I going to do with you, Changkyun?”

(He doesn’t get any more work done for the rest of the night.)


End file.
